


Decisions

by meanderingsoul



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Introspection, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s), Season/Series 06, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: For once, he’d seen worse, but not better.





	Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place at the end of of 6x04, so spoilers for that.

 

The wound in his left hand stung, but distantly. Things were far from the skin in this life.

The angry woman, because Snow had been right she was _very_ angry, was trying not to look at him.

He might find out why soon. If she’d turn.

Somehow, he suspected she’d decided to come with them for her own reasons, that a weapon against her throat and two opponents cornering her and her hands bound wasn’t actually enough to make her not fight.

She might be able to help them end this.

Anyone who could take on Jaco and Snow and walk away should make a good recruit, if they listened. But. Deep down in some empty place he felt like _she_ could, this woman, like he’d seen something.

He didn’t live quite as close to that kind of vision as Snowflake, but she wasn’t wrong.

Her physical frame might be small, but the energy that lived inside was beautiful. Captivatingly so. The most beautiful he’d ever seen. For once, he’d seen worse, but not better.

He couldn’t stop looking at it. But his hands didn’t move on the gun.

Her actual face was beautiful too. He had noticed, couldn’t decide yet if the woman was more beautiful bloody from a fight or poised so still.

There hadn’t been a lot of company in this life. There was work to be done. It didn’t seem to matter, frequently didn’t matter for people like them. But.

He thought about playing along in that store days ago, as if he was shopping for someone he wanted to impress instead of there to loot their pitiful supply of PEGs.

That plain, shiny necklace that was apparently so valuable wouldn’t suit this woman at all. The thought amused him.

She looked at him briefly, dark eyes flat and _so_ angry, but he knew what it looked like when someone really wanted to cry.

There was a level of hatred here he wasn’t quite getting. Something to do with his face. That word. Coulson. He wasn’t sure he liked any of that himself, but the hatred seemed exhausting. He had more important things to worry about.

Her dark hair was around her eyes, tangled on her cheeks. An attempt to mask what she was looking at. Or maybe hide the resignation to her current state.

He wanted to brush her hair back, smooth it into place, see if he could decide which way was prettier, bloody snarl or this. Her hair and cheek would be soft under his fingers.

The woman looked down at her bound hands again.

His fingers twitched slightly on the gun. He didn’t move.

This life didn’t have any need for soft things in it.

They sat in silence a little longer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many theories about all this guys. So many.


End file.
